


A Giant Hula Dancing Elvis Beach Towel

by FanFicsagogo



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Alpha Scott, Brief mentions of knotting, Chubby Stiles, Derek Has Issues, Derek's Dick, Derek's Heart, Exhibitionism, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Marking, Mostly Fluff, Stiles is awesome, and Derek's Eyebrows may be sentient, thigh kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-20
Updated: 2015-05-20
Packaged: 2018-03-31 10:50:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3975322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanFicsagogo/pseuds/FanFicsagogo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek is forced into a Hawaiian Vacation by his pack. (Oh the horror.) He thinks he doesn't need it, but everyone else seems to think he does. While on his vacation of doom he meets a pudgy annoying man child by the name of Stiles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Giant Hula Dancing Elvis Beach Towel

**Author's Note:**

> I started to write this two years ago while on a vacation in Maui. Any and all photos linked are actually from my trip. The videos are an added yummy sexy bonus that I unfortunately had nothing to do with. Also the smut is only a couple paragraphs scattered throughout.

 

 

 

 

 

Derek's arrival was less than expected but more than he hoped for. After a crowded set of flights that included a socially pleasant but loud college hockey team and a quiet but socially smelly newborn, Maui's airport gave him a feeling of relief. It's open exposure to the not quite over heated elements for now pleased him. Fresh air no matter how jarring, beat that of filtered jock sweat or recycled baby poop. Now at least he smelled everything blooming. Trees, flowers, fruits, the whole airport thrived just above the heady exhaust of jet fuel.

Off to the side, away from the storming departing line of his fellow escapees, he took a moment to look for the appropriate signs to follow. Packing light he avoided ever going to baggage claim, but he did have to go to ground transportation which unfortunately usually meant the same thing. Both contained the same mass of tired reeking, often shrieking people surrounding slow moving black belts.

God he hated flying.

A happy set of very small women in garishly blue Hawaiian shirts held an even smaller placard with his name on it. They featured giant floral things in, on, and probably up themselves.

Erica was already going to die for making him go on this trip, but did she have to rub it in with stuff like this.

The older lady called out his name, "Derek Hale?"

He nodded trying to muster up the smile that he knew he should have had on his face for a vacation to a beautiful island, but he must have failed by the shrinking sort of flinch the younger more native looking girl gave. Oh well, he shouldn't be forced to pretend to be happy about something he didn't want in the first place. 

"Aloha and welcome to Hawaii." The older woman who had a thick Boston accent said. 

He'd heard the stories about people coming to Hawaii and never leaving, from the overwhelming smell alone he understood why werewolves weren't inclined to follow along in the pattern. In fact, all the good fresh air already started to give him a mild head ache.

"Damned if I do, damned if I don't", he muttered to himself.

The little girl had long hair pulled up in a ponytail. "Do you have your voucher?"

Derek handed over a stack of paper to her and let the girl pick out whatever it was she needed. He hadn't really even wanted to look at it all seeing as how he was shoved onto a plane by his betas and told not to come back until he was tan and less grouchy. One of which was impossible for a werewolf and the other of which seemed impossible for him.

"Where are you coming from?" The older woman tried to engage him while leading all of them out to the shuttle buses.

"Alberta."

" Canadian! You must already like the heat change then."

Derek learned that when you didn't have anything nice to say, it was best to say nothing at all. His werewolf body grew used to cold, it liked the cold because he ran naturally hot. Being someplace warmer than his hottest summer back home and it being almost Halloween? No. He didn't have anything nice to say about this place.

"You came at the right time of year." The older woman continued. "The weather in Hawaii only has three settings. Hot. Hot and humid. Or dear god help it's too hot. We are currently experiencing 'Hot'. There's even a nice breeze."

Derek smiled. He was going to kill Erica when he got home. The thought of it made him feel a little better.

-/-/-/

Luckily his room was clean and the hotel was quiet for what he imagined a Hawaiian resort to be like. In less than half a day, he even managed to find a surly old bartender to silently  bond with about the suckiness of life, and if he could avoid people, hide in his room or the near empty bar for the next seven days he could maybe go back home without too many regrets.

"Ahh, Mr. Hale!"

Derek shrank into himself hoping to avoid the werewolf events director, a task he had succeeded in for the first 12 hrs of his trip. The kid was young with warm innocent eyes and a bright smile that had yet to be messed with by hardship. The bartender gave Derek a sympathetic look before retreating from the scene. Traitor.

"Your pack already signed you up for three events during your stay and informed me of your wish to learn more about Hawaiian culture.  I've printed out your itinerary while you're with us and will be happy to provide transports to your events."

Derek read the kid's name tag. "Scott, I appreciate your help but I really don't think I'll be able to make these 'events'. I'm happy where I am."

"Oh." The kid looked like Derek had not only kicked him, but went back to kick his gravely injured puppy. "The items were especially chosen for you by your pack and they've been paid for. I...of course it's your choice, but..."

The pleading sad pout on Scott's face was more of a hindrance to Derek's continued peace and quiet than anything else. Derek reached out and grabbed the itinerary from the kid. "Fine. I'll go to one and if I don't like it, I'm canceling the rest."

"Awesome!" Scott beamed at him. "The first is a show tonight."

 -/-/-/-/

 A magic show. A fucking dinner theatre magic show. Not only Erica, but Boyd, Cora, and Isaac were also going to die.

They sat Derek out in the hall to wait to be called into his table, and every moment he sat waiting he thought of how this would be the last thing he had to do. He could say how much he hated it and then cancel the rest of the nonsense on the list.

They forced him through a line where he had to smile for a photo that would no doubt be charged for at the end of the night, then sat him at a table with eight strangers. Most of them over 50 but under 65. And couples.

A happy almost giddy voice to his left spoke up. "Mai Tais and Blue Hawaiis for the duration of the meal."

Derek, who wasn't paying too close attention, turned to the rounder and much younger man next to him. "What." Questions sometimes ended without question marks for Derek, because he didn't really want an answer, but felt like he had to attempt at asking out of social habit. He'd break the habit one day. Goals. He had simple goals in life.

"We get free drinks with the show, but only until the main event starts and then they cut us off. So you have to keep drinking. The ladies that lei'd me at the airport told me all about it. And that really didn't sound right. It sounded like I got free booze advice after having a three way in an airport bathroom. Which isn't to say that would be a bad thing so much as an improbable thing. But maybe not for someone who looks like you. Yep that sentence was completely a possibility if you had been the one saying it. Or maybe Danny. But since Danny's gay, again that sentence doesn't make sense. Oooo, but it would if the men were in drag, that..."

"Do you ever shut up?" Derek actually worried the young man wasn't breathing as he rambled on.

"Many often wondered, but few have the stamina to stay and find out." The guy had these eyes of sweet honey that twinkled in the low lighting. "My mouth is alway moving. Food, sex, or talking. Take your pick."

The rest of the wanna-be-geriatric table stared at them like he and the chubby guy next to him were the floor show.

Derek pushed a stack of purple dinner rolls towards the big talker not caring if he came off like a jerk for wanting what was already a not so great evening turning into something intolerable. 

The guy didn't bat a lash before picking up a warm roll and scarfing it down. A trickle of butter ran over his long thick fingers and Derek watched in near amazement as another roll and then the finger all disappeared into the guy's mouth. The finger dragged back out with a slow audible moan and the butter made his pouty lips shine a moment before a pink tongue teased out to lick the excess. A third roll was drenched in butter and then lifted to the same wet mouth with a hum of joy.

The pleasure the guy got from eating was what held Derek's attention. Sure he'd seen people enjoy chocolate cake or a well seasoned steak. He'd even seen moods change. Boyd in particular moaned in happiness over tea after an especially bad day, but never in all Derek's days had he witnessed someone make eating look pornographically good.

Derek cleared his throat trying to focus on something else at the table, unfortunately the others seemed just as distracted. Half were repulsed, the other half intrigued, and one man had obviously had a similar reaction to Derek because he was damn near panting in an effort to slide over more rolls to the other side of the table.

"What's your name." Derek said.

More butter coated pouty lips and damn if the guy didn't know just how incredibly hot he looked all slicked up and waiting for something so much thicker to push into his mouth.

"Stiles", smacked none to subtly. The little tubby shit was doing this on purpose.

Derek held up a hand in maybe defeat of the obvious food porn creature next to him, or maybe for another wolf ale. 

One of many attendants came by with a drink. Although at this point he was wondering if he had had too much already.

"You like magic?" Stiles questioned while sipping down a third bright blue concoction.

"No."

"Uh huh. Well the show here is really good. I've seen it a few times."

Derek didn't respond, choosing instead to finish off the ale in front of him.

"Where are you from?"

Oh god no. Not the 'get to know you questions.' It was a horrible list that Derek hated with every fiber of his being. And he was asked at least two of the three  every time he went out without fail. 'Where are you from? What do you do? Are you here alone?' The last a not so subtle way of anyone trying to find out if they could pick him up for the evening. Derek never asked those questions back, because he didn't care to know the answers. And if heaven forbid he wanted a quick fuck he would just ask for one. If the person said no he would ask someone else until he had what he wanted. It made things easier.

Derek gritted through his teeth, "Canada"

"You must be Scott's new client."

At that Derek turned to look this Stiles person up and down once more. This resort was one of only a handful that catered to the supernatural. And only a few dozen varied hybrids or weres were even allowed on site at a time. The regular staff barely knew what was going on and the other guests were definitely not supposed to be in the loop. The only thing identifying him as anything other than every one else was his yellow wrist band. Which basically meant he got free wolf ale or aconite laced drinks. The aconite was even marked in special bottles that he saw at the bar with yellow reserved label on it. There were other bottles up there with other colors that Derek didn't ask about, but he only barely agreed to this vacation because he was told this damn place was safe and discreet. 

"Oh no, Scott didn't tell me. I figure it out from your color." Stiles held up his own red wristband. The pink and red were for human guests although the red ones were far less frequent from what Derek had gathered so far. 

Stiles whispered, "red is for humans that know the other side of this resort and are friendly to everyone."

Even as a low whisper Derek could here the innuendo laced way Stiles said 'friendly'. This beyond pudgy shit was not only hitting on him, he offered himself as part of the hotel package? "Do the red bands get paid for their 'friendly' services, or are you all paranormal groupies of some kind."

Stiles snorted in faked insult before leaning into Derek's personal space. "While this resort does provide many hedonistic pleasures, hookers for the supernatural isn't one of them. I simply happen to know when I see something I want and I tend not to deny myself those things. I also don't waste time by not telling the person I'm interested."

Some music kicked on with a base volume loud enough to force Derek to lean back into Stiles if he wanted to respond and be heard by the human. 

Derek stayed where he was and kept his eyes on his food or the stage for the rest of the evening. He did smell the mix of lust, fruity alcohol, and butter to his right. He also heard small quietly whispered anecdotes about each stage performer. Some had won hula championships when they were kids, others were aspiring magicians doing what they loved and studying with the headlining performer, an actual mage. Some Stiles didn't know at all but made up stories about where he thought they came from to end up on a stage performing for old couples and stray werewolves.

It wasn't a horrible experience. The food wasn't bad. The company was nice enough after Derek accepted Stiles' rambling as part of the show. And the magician performed with just enough distraction that Derek hadn't caught all of his slight of hand tricks. The whole evening might have even provided ways to help his pack in training. Distraction as well as fast reflexes were always good things to keep up on.

-/-/-/-/

Two types of people went on vacations like this. Those with itineraries that had long lists of things to accomplish. And those that wanted to get drunk every night and not leave their beds before noon. This left the most perfect time for Derek to venture out for food and drink to be between the hours of 9am and 11am. The type A weirdos had already had breakfast and were well on their way to scripted adventures and the drunks were still unconscious.

The old man surrounded by tikis and a wall of alcohol poured Derek the drink he wanted as he sat down. Only one day in and this guy understood Derek without a single word spoken between them. There was no flowers or fruit all over his drink. It wasn't in a garish glass like those at the show last night. Instead it was quiet and plain. It didn't have commentary because the simple ale didn't deserve it. 

Perfect. 

A random ESPN channel mutely  played above the bar. Golf. Derek could look out at the near empty late morning tropical resort, or stare up at the screen to watch men in equally 'nice' weather swing at a small ball. Derek closed his eyes briefly before deciding to zone out on the tv.

It wasn't like he needed commentary in his life. Silence provided it's own pleasure. How else would he enjoy the smooth taste of the drink in his hands, or the cool salty ocean breeze that dropped the temperature to something comfortable without the chemical a/c in his room. Yes, this would be his oasis during this trip. A calm space away from moaning talkative fat guys that blatantly offered him sex.

"There you are!"

Derek flinched from his momentary peace at the sound of Scott's chipper voice. It was too early for his brand of happy and too late to hide. The bartender nodded before retreating to a corner, staying wisely away from the boisterous hotel worker. The man was obviously a genius as well as a traitor.

"How was the magic show?" Scott's genuine eagerness to please bled into the air.

"Ok." 

"Awesome. That means you'll go to the lei making class in 30 minutes right?"

"What."

Scott held up a bright yellow sheet of paper that had Derek's name on it. 

It looked familiar.

Too familiar.

Didn't Derek throw that out yesterday? Why did technology make things like printing out itineraries so easy to do? Why couldn't he have been born in a time before such things? Maybe before type writers too. When throwing away a sheet of paper meant you were likely to never see it again.

"You have a lei making class in 30 minutes."

"I was going to order my lunch."

"Oh you still can. The class only takes a few minutes."

Then why was Derek signed up to do it? His internal question must have been written on his face because Scott took this opportunity to explain that the class took place in a small gazebo near to the bar where Derek currently sat and he did promise to keep following the itinerary so long as it was fun.

"I never said last night was fun." Derek grumbled.

But since lying to a werewolf wasn't easy, Derek couldn't completely say he didn't enjoy the magic show either, and now was unhappily finishing off his drink to walk over to a table covered in smelly flowers.  A woman with dark brown hair, dimples, and a smile held her hand out to him. "I'm Allison. Are you Derek?"

He nodded noting they were the only ones in the small area.

"We're waiting for another family and then we'll start." 

Once again life proved a person didn't  have to speak to get information and often found out more by remaining quiet.

Derek sat himself down at one of the tables as the woman spoke again.  "Where are you from?"

Derek stifled a growl. "Canada."

With the flex of his more wolfy nature, he caught a strong smell of Scott from this woman. At first it wasn't obvious because of all the flowers, but now that he picked it up it was hard not to notice this was the mate or at the very least frequent lover of Derek's event planner.

Great. 

Derek leaned away from her a little more, making himself comfortable at a safe distance, and rolled his eyes at now having to deal with werewolf courtesies and politics while stringing stinking flowers together. There was no way in hell this event would turn out positively enough to force him into another activity.

The additional family didn't help the situation. The father looked put out at being up and faked his smile. The wife looked tired of her family, but kept trying to spin everything into something positive. The son, maybe ten or so in age shared his hatred of this activity openly and repeatedly. And the youngest, maybe a six year old girl, kept repeating every color of every flower in front of her like a broken mina bird on speed. 

Derek strung his flowers with the long needle provided in record time offering it up to Allison so she could tie it off and hand it back. Typically Derek had seen enough people putting lei on to know a small kiss on the cheek was expected. But thankfully both he and Allison kept their distance.

"No! I'm not putting that thing on." The young boy was having a small break down and honestly looked horrified at the thought of wearing the flowers. The husband tried to demonstrate that it didn't hurt to put flowers on, especially if it meant he didn't have to hear his wife yell at him later. His argument convinced his son that he definitely would not wear it.

Allison seemed at a loss for a moment before she tried to explain that every male warrior proudly wore lei.

"Are you talking about my favorite subject Allison?" A voice Derek hoped he wouldn't hear today or maybe for the rest of his vacation invaded this already hellish 10minute class.

But there stood Stiles, blue and white board shorts clinging tight to over ripe thick thighs, stupid smile on his adorable pudgy face. Derek hated him. He started rambling almost immediately about the histories of the flowers they were using, the methods of making the adornments and the reasons why real men wore Lei. He shot glances at Derek multiple times during his rant. He flailed his way around the group grabbing his own flora, needle and thread. Then he pouted sticking his tongue out ever so slightly every time he added a flower. Derek hated him. And honestly Derek's class was technically over. He could have left as soon as Stiles started talking, but his dick apparently was ruling his motor functions and decided Stiles' thighs, lips and tongue should be listened to. A difficult task considering his Derek's dick didn't have ears, so he really can't be blamed when Allison chimed in to ask a question and he had no idea what she was talking about.

"...have you seen [the King Kai squad](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Xr1Wd17w-g)?"

"What?" Derek didn't know anything about any kings or their squads.

Apparently the small boy still wasn't convinced and now scoffed at hula. He obviously had preconceived notions about manly behavior and didn't want to be caught dead on Facebook by his peers wear flowers or swiveling his hips. Sometimes Derek wanted to morn for the stupidity of the general population. What a person wore from day to day did not change who they were as a person nor did it detract from their strength, but this ten year old already had preconceived notions on what a "man" was.

Stiles response had been to pull out his phone and show the entire class [the king Kai award winning hula dancers](https://youtu.be/epWSBHZsvJo?t=70). All of which wearing lei and doing moves Derek would find difficult to maintain even with his werewolf strength. Not to mention bodies that dwarfed his own fairly well muscled physique. 

Stiles must have seen his slight intimidation and whispered in his ear while everyone else watched the video. "I believe in your muscles."

The brat said it like someone would say they believed in angels or fairies and expected wishes to be granted. So Derek rolled his eyes before finally relieving his dick of central command duties and getting up to leave.

Of course a Stiles took this as an incentive to follow along.

"You're leaving your phone behind."

Stiles dismissed the idea with a casual wave behind him. "Allison will bring it back to me and she knows better than to look in the photo section".

Derek raised his gaze skyward and prayed for patience. Cute pudgy talkative men out to get werewolf sex were not on his itinerary. 

"You know I have photos of you on there."

At this Derek stopped walking down the path towards the beach and turned to face Stiles. 

The younger man held up both hands, "Nothing stalkery! Just some shots from the magic show. I noticed you didn't take any last night and thought you might want one or two to show your pack. Not that I'm against taking more provocative photos, or providing a few of my own. We can..."

"Shut up!" Derek turned from Stiles and started walking away again. It wouldn't be a bad idea to get photos of the magic show, but Stiles involvement made him growl. In fact he was kind of growling now. Especially with the pungent scent of salty ocean water, flowers and unabashed sex pouring off of Stiles. The strength of it burned thick enough to taste heavy on his tongue.

"If you pick me up and fuck me against a wall I'm sure it could count as weight training for you. Maybe next year you could even join the King Kai."

A fast image of Stiles' thighs around his hips had him almost tripping off the walkway onto the sandy beach, and the last straw holding Derek's slipping patience snapped like a twig. He took a cursory glance around to make sure there were no witnesses, then bodily lifted Stiles in a 180 turn lightly slamming him up against a near by surf shack. Derek forced his body up against all that nearly solid flesh, he ran his nose along the curve of Stiles' neck.  The earlier image became reality, each hand full of those sinful thighs. The soft outer layer masked a tight core that gripped Derek's hips as if they were made to be there. Made to eventually drag him down into the sand and engulf him in heated skin. They would slide in delicious friction as the full weight of this body slammed down on Derek's now exceptionally hard cock. "I am an alpha werewolf. You wouldn't count as training for one of my betas. Not to mention, I'm never out for a quick fuck." A total lie, but Stiles' humanity meant the kid didn't have to know that. 

Stiles arched his back attempting to grind against Derek. "So the direct 'I want to fuck you' approach isn't working for your alpha side. Understood. I can be meek. Sorta. Ok not really. But I know you want me. You're scenting me and half way to claiming me right now. Which I have no problems with. So, you know, have at me big guy. Show me that Alpha strength."

Derek rolled his eyes and dropped Stiles. 

-/-/-/-/

Snorkeling. It's the last event his pack scheduled for him and his third day on the island. Unfortunately this excursion had him up and out of his room at the ungodly hour of 8am. Which felt more like 2am since he still kind of suffered from jet lag. The bright morning sun, warmed the sand between his toes, and the sight of Stiles standing in a line of about fifteen other waiting tourists did nothing for his eagerness to go look at fish. 

However, a coral tank top stretched over Stiles' puffy nipples convinced Derek's dick to hand over all the worldly possessions he currently carried to the captain of the small boarding ship. Something about safety and liability, Derek hadn't paid attention to that speech or the most likely important ones that followed. Instead he watched Stiles shove part of a cinnamon roll in his mouth and lick white dripping frosting off of sticky fingers. 

Stiles caught him staring and batted his ridiculously colored eyes at him before walking over. The kid was an asshole. Trouble was, Derek obviously wanted to fuck that asshole many times and in many different positions. Most of them involved grabbing handfuls of Stiles' body and pining it to his bed. Maybe leaving marks with his teeth here or there. 

"Missed me?"

Derek lightly shook perverse thoughts from his mind and growled back, "You never give me a chance to." He wasn't in the mood for this shit. Why didn't he say 'Leave me alone. I'm busy trying to 'enjoy' wholesome sunshine.' 

"Untrue. You had all afternoon yesterday to dream of me licking more than frosting, and although I am not opposed to bringing this stuff into the bedroom. I should warn you that it gets messy more than fun at the end. Then again the s'more experiment of 2012 proved a good time could be had by all even during cleanup. I ..."

Derek slapped a hand over Stiles' mouth noting the scandalized look the mother to their left gave them, and quickly moved them both onto the boat.

"Do you have something against filters and self restraint?"

Stiles nodded before licking(marking) Derek's hand. All the mirth and glee of that act in his bright honey eyes when Derek pulled it away, "Do you have something against happiness?"

Derek had no idea why he needed to justify anything to this kid, maybe he was tired of everyone deciding that only if he smiled he was ok. "Maybe I'm not the type that needs to put on a fake smile to be content with what I have."

"So you're saying you're totally "content" and don't need to smile or laugh or have fun."

Derek did not pout when responding, "I have fun."

"Prove it big guy. Let's see you have some fun today." Stiles said as he pointed his long pudgy finger at Derek's chest then flicked his nose. 

Derek being the more mature one, stuck out his tongue before walking below decks for a drink. 

-/-/-/

The first reef was amazing, and although Derek kept to himself he had a good time looking at things he never would have seen except maybe on a discovery channel show. Bright blues, reds, yellows mixed with silver. Turtles, corals, fish of every size.  Derek also noticed Stiles had trouble reaching his feet to get his flipper fins on and off, so if at the next site he helped Stiles put them on. He would only be courteous. Right? 

The chubby feet and toes hung off the side of the boat, and the kid obviously struggled not to fall so it's only natural to slide a hand down Stiles' calf to his ankle holding his foot in place as he forced the fin on.

"Now that we're both adorably blushing you should go with me for this part. I mean this area's called the Slaughter House because the blood of an actual slaughter house use to run off into this reef and draw large predators, you know, sharks. I don't want to be eaten by sharks Derek, and since you're at the top of your own little food chain you can protect me."

"You're being ridiculous.  Our guide was pretty clear the sharks have been gone for decades." 

"Sharks can live as long as humans. We're talking 80 plus years. I don't want to be snacked on by a geriatric dino-fish out to relive it's youth. That's no way to die." 

Stiles slipped into the water backwardly dog paddling toward Derek.

"Dino-fish?"

And thus began the next hour of Derek getting a marine biology lesson from his very own personal Stiles. He knew about almost everything Derek pointed out. Including how Sharks weren't really fish but a "prehistoric throw back that never got the memo that dinosaurs were extinct."

Not much else happened after that. Grilling and lunch took place on a beach not far from the snorkel sight. Derek watched Stiles eat and maybe filed that bit away for later more personal review. Then the quiet calm sail back to the island. It included a detour to watch pods of dolphins at play. For half the trip back Stiles played with the kids on the boat. He chased them and made 'Sea Monster' sounds. The other half he cuddled up to sleep with Derek, who got sun burnt for the very first time in his life. 

So yeah. Not much happened. It wasn't fun at all. 

Derek's heart skipped half a beat. 

He never did perfect his ability to lie to himself. He needed to work on that. Another goal. 

-/-/-/-/

The sunburn healed just as soon as Derek walked into his room, but the memory of Stiles in his arms didn't fade. Why had he been so careless? Was he that lonely? That desperate for company that he would let anyone snuggle up to him and sleep against his bare chest? He knew Stiles wasn't playing fair. He knew the asshole understood everything he'd done. Sleeping with an Alpha that way was tantamount to submission or begging for protection. It was scent sharing, pack forming behavior. Derek hadn't actually slept with anyone other than his betas in years and even then it was so seldom... What the hell was he thinking?

He wasn't thinking. And that lead to problems. 

Hiding in his room for the evening seemed a good plan of action. He could avoid the crowds, order room service, (avoid any chance of seeing Stiles). 

Derek loved room service. Everything came custom directly to him. Tiny little packages or bottles of things made to accompany anything he requested. Nothing was oversized everything perfect proportion amounts and if he wanted more they could send another perfect tray of food. When finished, he simply had to shove the dirty stuff outside the door and never look at it again.

Derek sighed before throwing himself on the bed.

Stiles wasn't a meal and neither were his most recent sexual partners. Sure he treated them like room service, but that was what everyone wanted. Stiles even wanted that, but Derek turned him down implying that he wanted a relationship and Stiles still didn't back down. Instead the asshole instigated pack bonding techniques. And what did any of that mean?

Derek pulled at his hair in frustration. The clock by his bed read 3:14am. He spent six hours hiding and eating his metaphoric/quite real room service, so it should have been safe to take a walk outside, maybe sit on the beach. Almost everyone should have been sleeping. He stepped out to the exposed hallway. The open flow of night air instantly cooled his still newly healed skin, but the cloying smells of flora, ocean, and chlorine hit him full force and everything compounded enough for him to let out another defeated sigh. 

It proved time for Derek to change tactics. 

The chlorine came from the pool three floors below. All the rooms faced the ocean or the courtyard that lead to the ocean. A rather impressive pool area complete with native plants, trees, and sleep inducing lawn furniture filled the courtyard. This setup coupled with the sound of at least one person turning in the water gave Derek an idea. 

It was a game he played with his family before most of them died and he now used to train his own pack.

Slowly he relaxed his body, focused on each sense starting with touch. He dulled the sensations of the wind to the back of his mind. Smell would do him no good here. There was too much between nature, the guests, and all the chemicals that came with maintenance of a hotel. Not to mention the pool was too far away with him currently on the third floor. So without looking over the small balcony like ledge, Derek tried to use sound to determine how many swam in the pool. 

Derek fought his first impulse of turning around to go back into his room when he almost instantly recognized that heartbeat. Fucking Stiles. He was in the pool, he was alone, and he was talking/singing too himself too. Mumbling random crap under his breath about puppies and pineapple.

It was as if fate saw Derek trying to ignore this man and instead slapped a giant billboard with 'take, claim, mate, fuck' etched in neon across the large expanses of Stiles' skin. Thankfully no one else seemed to be around to witness Derek's ...sexual breakdown? It could have been classified as emotional, but really now looking down at Stiles twirling around in the illuminated water only stirred one hard core feeling in him. Damn dick issues. His dick of course had deep emotional feelings about every soft wave of water displaced by not elegant but floundering playful motions. His stupid dick enjoyed every twisting ripple of well contained muscle. And when Stiles laid back to float looking up at the night sky, Derek's traitorous dick memorized the path of every bead of water from Stiles' neck, his nipples, his stomach, his thighs, all the way down to his toes. If only the bastard wasn't wearing those stupid board shorts Derek's dick would have a friend to...No.

Damn dick issues.

Derek adjusted his full cock, sliding it more comfortably along one of his thighs. The relief from the tenting pressure, gave him enough clarity to briefly think for himself, and ignore Stiles' strange song about "pineapple puppies on top of the sea".

First, he wasn't a creeper who would jack off to someone swimming without their consent. Second, Derek's only reason for staying until Stiles got tired was to make sure he didn't drown. And lastly, his werewolf instincts definitely agreed with his dick so maybe just maybe he should sit, watch, and figure what the hell was so damn special about Stiles. 

-/-/-/-/

After a fire took most of his family, Derek stopped functioning on almost every level. Exercise became his only escape. The push and strain on his muscles gave him enough to feel something other than numb. Eventually, almost two years later, Derek spoke again. Eventually, after gaining his own small pack and home, he smiled. It wasn't often, but he allowed himself small moments of true happiness. 

He thought it was true happiness. 

His current overwhelming need to run when greeted by a rising sun didn't surprise him. In fact it calmed the shit out of him, because at least that part of him seemed normal. The long beach lined boardwalk tethering all the resorts together seemed like the only thing he might've enjoyed on this trip. Now of course there was Stiles to consider. No one pushed Derek like that. No one forced him out of his comfort zones by their mere existence let alone physical appeal. And wasn't that a kicker. Derek's usual hookups looked like every hard body he passed on this morning jog. Fit, tight, toned to the point of refined definition. The women might not have all been petit, but they were certainly cut just as well as every man he'd taken to bed. 

So what the hell was Stiles? An anomaly of anomalies? He easily weighed 300lbs. Sure a large portion was muscle...Derek lost his stride at the memory of the dense quantity of man, the heft of powerful thighs hugging his hips. Frosting coated, buttery fingers sucked one by one into Derek's mouth. Maybe nibbling lightly on all that skin, marking it up from heel to hip and taking days to do it right.

No.

It couldn't be about the size of him. That part screamed fluke in Derek's mind. Besides it would be better not to get involved at all since there was no way for it to last. 

Five miles into his slow paced jog along the beach(he might've added a little weight to his ankles for a challenge), Derek started wondering where any of it ended. Did this path wrap all the way around this island like some inevitable circle of fate? 

Instead of finding out he turned around in search of breakfast and maybe a glimpse of Stiles eating at the buffet.

-/-/-/-/

And where was Stiles? The shower he rushed through still got him to the main resort dining room before 7:30am and he was sure he heard Stiles correctly say he would be there between 7am and 8am. " _It's peak hot food to guest ratio hour. Before that it's not enough people for the staff to keep rotating in new hot product. And at 8am it's like a Disney movie starts playing, the Pixar kind that attracts every family group for a hundred miles. Do you have any idea what it's like to fight for the last fresh baked raspberry/blueberry poptart. They make their own here Derek. I will not have my morning poptarts stolen by Bethany Whitmore again. I don't care that she's six. She has strong little legs that kick! Not to mention her mom would totally remove my ability to have children if I kicked back, soooo yeah... Oooo look dolphins!"_  

Where was Stiles. Logically the small bar with his surly bartender offered enough food from their limited menu that things like vast tent covered open air buffets didn't even occur to him. But now he stood there like an idiot staring out over this huge crowd for no apparent reason. The hostess greeted him, asked for his room number, then showed him to a seat. He didn't feel like sitting, but he didn't want to give anyone else a hard time just because he somehow couldn't stop thinking about a sexy motor mouthed pain in the ass.

And where was Stiles. Derek couldn't even smell him and after last night watching over him in the pool and snuggling up to him yesterday for a couple hours Derek was sure he could track his scent. Did he leave the resort?

A smiling overly happy waiter came up to poor him water, but at this point Derek reflexively growled back.

Almost on queue Scott showed up shooing the waiter away and taking over with his own helpful smile. "Hi Derek. Looking for Stiles?"

Derek stayed quiet, but maybe his eyebrows threatened bodily harm if Scott didn't magically produced his friend in the next minute or two. Derek never really knew what his eyebrows said to people.

Scott got the message though. "Stiles said you might show up and to say he was sorry for not 'sharing pop tarts' with you. He should be back in a few hours if the weather holds up though."

Derek's eyebrows didn't understand that statement at all. The weather never changed. Sure the lady at the airport talked about heat variations but the truth of things was the high temperature rarely varied more than five degrees from 80. Not to mention, only big fluffy white clouds occasionally passed around the ever present sunshine.

Scott apparent understood Derek-brow-language and replied, "Red flag time. Stiles is out surfing."

No. Red flags meant high and dangerous waves. Stiles flopped around in the water yesterday like he could barely swim, "and you let him go?"

"He's a championship knee boarder, not like he needed my permission, besides he's with Danny. They've been surfing together since college. Danny is also a surf instructor when he's not writing code with Stiles."

Derek had only seen one guy outside the surf shack giving lessons a couple of days ago. The man was tan, tall, and built like a sculpted supermodel. His awesome smile and easy going nature drew a crowd of people that Derek not only found annoying, but were so loud  they interrupted him trying to read.

Derek growled a little more, before getting up to leave. Stiles chose to go out with his hot surf instructor, co-working college 'friend' rather than have gluttonous amounts of purple poptarts with a grumpy werewolf. Fine. The bastard obviously played games since he could swim well enough to be out in the ocean for Championship level waves, but splashed around in front of Derek like he could barely stay a float. Fine.

Scott followed him out and down an overly flora filled path back to the guest rooms. "Technically I'm his alpha, and he does have to ask permission to date you. Did I misjudge that and give that permission too quickly?"

For all of the easy dimpled smiles and puppy like stares, in this moment Scott challenged a rival Alpha in protection of his pack. His back seemed to broaden, his eyes flashed red, and the tone of voice spoke of not being in the mood for bullshit.

Derek could respect that even if the ideas behind the posturing were misplaced. Sure Derek may have just charged out of a packed dining room with a little less than perfect control, but none of this needed to happen. With a roll of his eyes, "It was an obvious mistake to look for Stiles this morning and won't happen again. I do ask that you please keep you pack member away from me so I might enjoy the rest of my stay." The phrasing reeked of alpha political deference, but Derek's posture read as fuck off. A long time honed skill his crazy uncle taught him. 

Derek moved to continue on to his room. 

Scott blocked his path using speed that really shouldn't have been displayed so openly. "Unless it's for the hotel, I'm not a messenger service. You can talk to Stiles on your own. I also don't go back on my word. I've given him permission to date you, but that doesn't mean I won't defend him from jealous out of control boyfriends or mates."

Derek wasn't jealous. 

And his heart blipped a couple extra beats. 

"Whatever I feel doesn't matter. Stiles is not what I'm looking for, And I don't want a boyfriend or mate."

Badump-bump-bump.

Scott smirked, "so what are you looking for Alpha Hale?"

"Peace and quiet. Everything that is completely the opposite of Stiles." 

Badump-bump-bump-badump-bump-bump.

And since when did Derek's heartbeat start giving commentary in the form of rim shots to everything Stiles related? The added beats were obviously also to blame for the flush on his cheeks and the hasty retreat towards his room.

Scott, who's posture had completely changed back again, out right giggled following closely behind. "Very well. Alpha Hale. You know most alphas when faced with any challenge to even a potential mate get  more than a little miffed, but just now you blushed at me, so ..." Scott cleared his throat before speaking once more in the happiest voice Derek as ever tried to block out.   "As compensation for disturbing your quiet vacation this morning the Maui Kinipopo Hotel and resort is offering you this free ticket to tonight's Luau. Please be advised these are couple seats only and as you are a single guest another single guest will be paired with you."

The slightly smaller dimpled Alpha of cheery events thrust the ticket at Derek just as Derek had to turn to close his room door.

-/-/-/-/

The damn ticket found it's way under Derek's door. It read for a 7:30pm start time and to be ready for seating as early as an hour before. 

He ignored the ticket after reading it once and left it on the floor. The maid service could take it or throw it away. It wasn't his problem. Instead he would spend the rest of the day doing what he wanted. Finding a quiet section of beach and reading, hanging out at his claimed bar with the best bartender in the world, Derek scheduled himself the perfect "me" day. No tourists, no noisy happy events directors, and especially no Stiles.

Derek puffed out his chest delighted with his resolve. 

-/-/

At 6pm Derek stood in front of his hideous hotel provided flora themed half mirror wondering where everything went wrong. He wore the nice pair of dark tan slacks Erica packed and the dress shirt his sister bought him last Christmas. 

_"It's green." Derek scrunched up his nose at the color._

_She flicked his forehead. "It's forest with a dark brown undertone and brings out your freakishly pretty eyes."_

The stupid ticket migrated from the floor to the desk after the room was cleaned. Then some how got moved to the nightstand when he took his afternoon nap. It taunted him into taking it with him when he got up to take a shower, but magically avoided getting wet by sitting on the towel rack. And now the stupid thing rested in his hands as he stood in front of a mirror ready to go.

He had been tricked. It was obviously a cursed object. This could be the only reason for him to leave his room and follow the bright yellow and pink signs toward the Luau dining area. 

Badump-bump-bump.

"Shut up."

"Talking to yourself already Sourwolf. Heard you missed me this morning. If I knew for sure you were going to be there I would've never gone out. Seriously you and poptarts totally beat out knee boarding on epic waves, and they were epic today. Got so much air in the overhead. Danny and I were both in the zone. Normally I don't go out on dawn patrol, but they were calling me like cheese cake with extra heavy homemade whip cream. You can't turn stuff like that down. You just can't. And then Danny..."

Derek might have been growling at the second mention of Danny's name. 

"Ooooo, careful with the boner inducing growling. I'm doing my best not to jump you as is. Damn who picked out that shirt? Totally unfair if you add growling. Any way, Scott got all weird and defensive about your apparent jealously fit this morning, but I honestly didn't believe him till now. And I totally disagree and obviously think your grrrr moments are exceptionally hot. However the jealousy being the cause of it totally isn't my thing. No one wants to feel jealous, so from now on I'll do everything I can to make sure you understand how much hotter you are than all the other men ever. It's going be all about the confidence and trust in our relationship. You'll only have eyes for me and my thighs. And I'll only want to lick your abs."

"Shut up." Derek needed more time to process. Hell he wasn't even at this Luau as a conscious decision and yet somehow listening to Stiles' word vomit calmed him, like that was what had been missing from his perfect itinerary, like this was what happy truly meant.

Derek needed to sit down and as he found their assigned table amid a sea of tiki torches flowers and food he asked, "Where do you live?"

"A small town in California, but since most of my job is programming I can live anywhere. I visit the main office here three or four times a year, and chose California to be close to my dad. Although he doesn't need me there quite as much since he married Scott's mom. They met here last year when I brought him along as a Father's Day gift. Some gift huh. He gets a wife, I get Scott as my eternal bro. Which we already were, but now it's binding in a court of law."

"What kind of programming do you do?" Really? Derek felt shell shocked by his own question. Did he want to know the answer to that? Did he care enough to remember?

"The boring reinforcement network securities kind. I honestly wanted to design video games, but this pays much more and doesn't have me attached to a large production team with schedules. I need my surf time. Which brings me to my question. Do you live on the coast?"

A conversation with interest and intent. Okay. His turn to answer. "No, but my pack has been begging me to move to a place called Tofino it's near Vancouver and my family had a home there when I was growing up. It's a small peninsula on the Pacific coast and although the water gets cold for six months, there are surfers out there all year."

Stiles did a small fist pump with one hand while happily munching a potato stuffed dinner roll with the other.

Might as well be guilty of the unholy trifecta of frequently asked questions. "Did you come alone to Hawaii this time?"

Stiles face filled with a devilish grin that gave Derek's heart more rhythm problems. "Yes, but I'm not leaving that way." 

"Really?"

"Yep, do you think your pack will like me?"

Derek grunted at the thought of Stiles meeting any of them, especially Erica. Both had little in the way of filters or inhibitions. They would cause all manner of trouble. Besides what kind of crazy conversation was this? They just met days ago and now Derek's moving his pack, Stiles was leaving his father. "Don't you think we should maybe Skype for a few months before you come home with me."

"Aww you wanna be pen pals too? Promise we can Skype, text, and write each other love notes with me right next to you. It'll be fun. Besides no one says we have to get married. I like to travel. I have money and a portable job. We can date a little, hang out a little, have tons of epic sex, and if at the end of all of that you and I both still haven't gotten our heads or dicks out of our asses long enough to see we were meant to be, maybe we weren't. It'll be sad. We may need to split the china and make duplicate copies of music databases, but we'll live on as friends that pine for each other and occasionally hook up until we're old and share a room in a nursing home."

"Do you even breathe while spouting your delusions?" A buffet style spread of even more food than currently covered their table called to Derek. Maybe it was a bit of a panicked retreat from all the possibilities Stiles spoke of. Was that what he wanted? A chance? A maybe? The open bar?

"You know the rules big guy, sex me up or feed me if you want me to stop talking."

Derek hadn't given himself chances in a very long time, and so while a dozen or so toned oiled men hauled torches and a huge slow roasted pig in a grande parade around the evenings guests, Derek took his chance and kissed Stiles.

It was sweet, buttery and repeated throughout the night as all the broken parts that said he didn't deserve this kind of happiness quieted. 

-/-/-/

Stiles' room was closer than Derek's and by the end of the meal neither really wanted to wait a second more. Every stolen kiss served only to heighten the brewing sexual tensions. Full leaking cocks so strained the smell of them matched the sweet taste of Stiles lips in distracting Derek from noticing the last 30 minutes of the show. 

Hot and bothered sucking the first of many dark red bruises onto Stiles' neck, they fumbled against the hotel room door. They tried to swipe the key, but the plastic card snapped when Stiles pushed against it. Nothing too horrible. They both laughed as he reached into his pocket for the spare room key in his wallet. This time he turned around to face the door. And Derek again crowded up against him rutting his full cock against the...and that's where Derek's brain decided to mess everything up.

It has been Derek's experience that when things are good for him especially romantically, bad things happen of equal or greater significance. A boon such as Stiles even for this brief near hallucinatory holiday doomed him to failure.

Only seconds before, his now still hands ached to manipulating every part of Stiles' body. But in grinding up against him Derek finally realized just how big Stiles really was. His fingers gripped a thick roll of warm fat. His cock pressed firmly to an enveloping ass. Then his mind started to wander into thoughts about how much bigger could Stiles get before reaching around to pull at his cock became impossible. Derek could tell it would be a challenge even now. He would need to squeeze Stiles close, be buried as deep as possible inside him, locked tight on his knot before even attempting good solid strokes to Stiles' shaft. And he would have to hold this roll of flesh out of the way to get to the base, to play or tug on his balls.

Now with pornographic thoughts that he never considered to be in the realm of sexy, his stupid brain and his painfully swollen cock once again had fight going on. 

On the one hand, Stiles made him want things. Marking, claiming, forever kinds of things.  He wanted to breed that thick ass then get buried with those thighs all but suffocating him on either side of his face as he sucked Stiles balls, taint, and properly cum filled hole clean.

On the other hand, sex with a warm plushy extra large pillow meant Derek could say or do something wrong. Hell, he already thought about this in the wrong way. Stiles wasn't a pillow or a fat kink to be experimented with. What if he didn't like it? What if he was so shallow that even though right now he wanted sex, what if Stiles took off his clothes and Derek hated it? Sure he'd seen him swimming, but board shorts hid a lot.

Stiles of course noticed the abrupt pause in frantic activity, turned, gave Derek one solid look in the eye and closed the newly opened door in Derek's face.

Through it he heard, "I'm comfortable with my choices Derek. You should be too."

-/-/-/-/-/

Stiles went for another 3am swim alone. Derek watched again, but this time it was on purpose. His earlier fear of failure made him over analyze and fail.

Now he needed to figure out a way to get out of his own head and enjoy himself with Stiles without fear.

"I'm going to tell you a story. Then you are going to quit being a creepy lurkerwolf and come down to join me." Stiles said it like Derek stood right next to him when in reality he was two floors and about 50 meters away. "There once was a small boy about eight years old. He barely contained all his energy long enough to put together a complete sentence or sit still. Most other children stayed far away from him because the never quite continued thoughts made zero sense. The flailing limbs didn't help either. Unfortunately at eight years old the only person in the world who seemed to understand his random babbling died. Right before she left him, his mother made him promise to live life without regret. To do everything he wanted. To never hurt anyone else in this pursuit, but to never let anyone else hold him back. It took several years, therapy, and finding the right medications, but eventually the boy made good on his promise. He ate every curly fry he could find as an experiment to find the best ones. He told the very first girl he ever loved how he felt the very first moment he saw her. He surfed on his knees when others said he was too fat to stand on a board. Then became champion. He learned small pieces of languages spoken in every country he visited while competing. Most recently he offered sex to a grumpy werewolf before figuring out that the werewolf wasn't grumpy but lonely. And now the thing he wants most is to stay by that werewolf's side, but he's not sure if it would hurt anyone just yet, so he's swimming around in a pool jet lagged and confused."

As a werewolf, Derek could have easily jumped down off of the balcony and landed near Stiles, but showing off didn't seem the right action to such a confession no matter how fast he wanted to respond. Instead he gathered his thoughts and headed for the stairs. Would he explain about his own crazy past with his first girlfriend dying when given the bite, or the next being a hunter that tricked him and burn his family home down with most of his family in it? Or his fumbling forays into bisexuality that both added to and sometimes threatened his current pack with his lack of stability or permanent anchor.

Derek went with what he knew best. Silence. He sat at the edge of the pool letting his feet and lower legs swing through the cool illuminated water. He watched Stiles swim and play as if there was no one else in the world. The younger man spun around on one pointed foot like a ballerina, then flipped upside down kicking out a splash or two. He'd dog paddle and sang silly songs that made no sense. Every crazy move existed only because it made Stiles happy. 

Derek ached to be part of it, but didn't know how. The simple beauty forbidden to him by choice, or maybe self imposed punishment. "I want to be happy."

Stiles stopped moving and listened.

"It had been so long since I felt it. I didn't understand smiles and laughter had left my life."

Silence between them shifted back and forth with the wind. Stiles swam closer towards Derek who had his head down in reflection. Would Stiles give him another chance? Did he deserve it?

"Get out of your damn head!" Stiles said as he thrust what felt like a tidal wave of water at Derek. "I don't know what happened to you to make you so scared, but stop it." Stiles splashed him again. This time another direct hit that even though Derek tried to dodge out of the way, he only ended up slipping into the pool completely.

"You stop it! I was content. I was ok. Why did you have to make everything brighter!" Derek flung his arms out directly ahead of him shoveling a huge wave of water Stiles direction. 

"Ooooo, I'm the bright one, but you can't even get it up long enough to have sex with me!" Stiles circled and aimed another vicious slap of water to Derek's face.

Derek cut through the short distance between them grabbing Stiles around the arms and waist.  The fit was tight his hands couldn't touch to lock up movement, but thankfully Stiles didn't seemed to mind. "You have no idea the pressure I feel at the idea of messing this up."

"How could you mess this up aside from you know, what you already did?"

"This." Derek took a handful of Stiles round stomach and squeezed. "I'm crazy attracted to this, the way you eat, and god I want to bury myself in your thighs, but I've never...I didn't understand why and it scared me that it could possibly go away and then I would be without you." 

"Let me get this straight, or in our case extremely bent. You developed a chubby chasing fat kink with a probable side of feederism due to your overwhelming attraction to me as a person, but freaked out because you think you'll lose me if the kink goes away?"

Derek nodded.

Stiles retaliated by kicking free and dunking Derek's "stupid alpha head" in the water.

"Has it ever occurred to you that werewolves actually like a little chunk in the trunk. Because really none of what I'm carrying is junk. And you should have figured this out with all the feeding rituals you guys have and breeding instincts. Of course you don't have a problem with fuller figures. You have any idea how many weres have tried to get a piece of..."

Derek's eyes might have started to glow at the implication of any other wolves trying to claim Stiles.

"You're right. Not the point. Other weres aren't you, but that doesn't mean your instincts to provide for me and have me thick and healthy for mating are weird or wrong. Or that me as a human that chooses to look like Buddha out on the open waves is anything to be ashamed of. Now that I know you were being a dumb ass. We can and will have sex when you're ready."

Derek looked at Stiles up close. All those pretty moles kissed his skin. Long pretty lashes blinked away tiny drops of water. The half completed neck mark Derek intended to bite down on when he finally thrust inside Stiles teased him. He was ready the moment he laid eyes on him. The trick was to not be afraid.

He reached up stroking a thumb and forefinger across Stiles' face. He smoothed over a cheek before again moving in close and kissing him. Soft tentative little kisses filled them both with excited hope for more. Neither found disappointment when Derek's sure arms pulled him in tight forcing a small rush of water away and temporarily slicking their chests together in a fantastic warm glide making a delighted Stiles hum and Derek growl into a deeper kiss.

Stiles gave as good as he got, biting and licking into Derek's mouth, wrapping his arms high around Derek's neck and thrusting his hips forward almost all at the same time. Both men enjoyed the indecently hard friction of their cocks rubbing together in near perfect unison. The half beat of frantic rhythm kept it from being timed frottage and turned it into desperate want. Derek grabbed the front of Stiles swim trunks forcing them down to pleased high pitched whimpers and low throaty moans. 

Stiles groaned pulling away from the kiss. "I should have never taken that plug out earlier, you could be fucking me now. Knotting my ass and claiming me like we both want. You want that don't you. To claim me." Stiles reached down between them pushing his hand into Derek's swim trunks and grabbing his dick. "You want this inside me. You want to fill me with food and cum and breed me on your knot for hours."

Derek's hips jerked forward and back into that fist causing waves upon ripples of sensation through his body. God he was so close. He moved Stiles hand out of the way exposing his own cock slipping it below Stiles' thrusting the tip between those hot thighs while pressing the full length of Stiles cock upward rubbing it between his abs and Stiles fleshy paunch. 

Both of their knees were trapped together by their swim trunks. The perfect snares to hold everything together has they fucked each other hard chasing down some unknown measure of pleasure that seemed to build and build with every thrust.

 "Fuck yes!" Stiles cried out before Derek began babbling out every dirty filthy thing he had been secretly thinking since they met. Sucking icing off his fingers and puffy tits, butter slicked blowjobs, burying his face in Stiles cum filled ass while being suffocated by those incredible thighs. 

The echoing grunt of each climax spurred the other on until the final aching thrusts squeezed out the last drops between them.

"Hot damn! Tell me we woke up Scott."

Derek blushed, exhibitionism wasn't that high on his list of kinks but apparently it too needed exploring because he kind of liked the idea of claiming Stiles publicly. "Yeah and some guy named 'Jackson'."

At this news an already blissed out Stiles beamed at him in utter devilish joy. "You are totally amazing!"

"They're warning that if we don't go to our noise proof rooms they will call security."

"Yeah, whatever. Scott's security when it comes to weres and he totally owes me for all the times I heard about him and Allison. Besides I have a better idea any way."

And this was how Derek and Stiles ended up on a Maui beach stretched out on a giant hula dancing Elvis beach towel watching the sun rise.  

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Another Couple Kane hula Videos for you. [Here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7ARBBHMDBy8). and [Here.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QgnDRESnTws)
> 
> Kudos if you liked it please and thank you.


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